


Champion

by qloss_ily



Category: K-pop
Genre: Atlanta, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Gen, K-pop References, Korean Characters, Korean-American Character, Pop Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 17:10:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13035684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qloss_ily/pseuds/qloss_ily
Summary: Championnounnoun: champion; plural noun: champions1.a person who has defeated or surpassed all rivals in a competition...





	1. Gloaming

Noun (literary)

twilight; dusk

Simple sounds filled the air: pencil drumming, foot tapping, quiet breathing all disturbed the usual silent air of the room. The young man, who sat frustrated at the kitchen table which was missing a leg so a number of phone books and dictionaries took its place, stopped his subtle chorus of noises and held his head in his hands, his stark black hair falling into his face. When he straightened he used both sides of one of his hands to wipe his face before drying it on his jeans, his other hand over his mouth with his elbow on the table top to support the weight. His eyes flickered between the bills on the counter and the phone laying on the table, the blue glow of the screen taunting him.

The envelopes left to gather dust on the counter were addressed to Ian Hong were bills for power, water, even phone service, their payments overdue. The phone screen glowed with the bank account belonging to Ian Hong and it supported a total of $86.00, which was hardly enough to pay off any of the bills let alone fly back to South Korea for the holidays. The young man, Ian, ended up shoving his phone into the pocket of his black distressed jeans alongside his wallet. His charcoal sweatshirt was dusted off before a long, thick wool coat was pulled on over it along with a pair of headphones and he started for the door.

Black boots were tugged on before Ian made his way out the door and across the porch, cautiously making his way down the creaky stairs. When he glanced back at his house his eyes filled with disdain as he took in the small, old home. The blue paint was faded and peeling and it hardly looked welcoming. A small tsk escaped his lips as he began his walk to the subway. He needed to figure something out fast before he got evicted. Atlanta was an expensive place to live, less expensive than Los Angeles or New York but still expensive nonetheless. He crossed the street in front of Ponce City Market, glaring at the penthouses as he did, and made his way into a small diner called Eats.

He sat in a booth by the window sipping his coffee and picking at the American comfort food which wasn't so comforting at the moment. He promptly paid, thinking about the small dent it would bank in his bank account, then made his way to the closest Marta station which was about a 30-minute walk away. Some would say a car would've paid for itself by then but, then again, Ian would just have more bills to worry about and not be able to pay for. Every so often he would stop to warm up his fingers in a convenience store, restraining himself from buying another coffee. He thankfully got there at a reasonable hour, using his Marta card to enter the station just as a train pulled in.

He boarded the train and sat down by the window before pulling on his headphones and playing some obscure mixtape he downloaded a few days prior. The ride to Five Points wasn't too terribly long and no one dared sit beside the glowering young man the entire way there. When the train screeched to a stop he would glance up at the sign to see if his stop was displayed. The time it finally was he wordlessly rose from his seat and pushed his way through the crowd to the doors. They parted and he took no time to rest before making his way to ground level. The sky had tinted a desaturated dark purple as the evening began to set in.

He dipped into a sketchy looking building, the bricks stained by the weather as he maneuvered his way towards a small record store buried between two nicer and larger businesses. The inside of the store was pretty dim but the lights on the small stage illuminated the place just enough. The carpet was most definitely stained with all the shoes that had trekked over it. Some rugs were laid out haphazardly over the stage and seating area. A small couch, a half a dozen chairs, and what looked to be the back seat out of an old car all faced the stage. The venue owner was in the miniature sound booth and snack bar adjusting some settings quietly.

It was pretty packed, mostly teens and young adults were standing or sitting wherever they could. The few adults who were there were rumored to be scouts. The wall behind the stage had what looked to be a window now filled in and framed with a number of lights. Neon signs and posters were scattered over the walls along with a few signed pieces of merchandise. The venue owner asked for ticket payment and quickly Ian said he was performing, not attending to watch. This caught the owner by surprised but after a small shrug, he thought nothing of it. He asked if he brought his own track and the young man had to think about it, running a hand through his hair as he did. He nodded after a minute or so of silence and asked if he could plug his phone into the aux cord.

With nimble fingers, Ian got his phone connected to the stereo system before scrolling through his SoundCloud and showing the owner which track he wanted to perform. He only raised an eyebrow because it was only one track but kept his voice level as he insisted one was all he needed. He turned to take the stage when an arm latched onto his bicep.

"Your name?"

"Excuse me?"

"Your name, son."

"Ian."

"Just Ian?"

"Champ."

"Just Champ?"

"Champ Ian."

The play on words using his name was last minute and unintentional. The owner mumbled "Could use some work," under his breath before announcing he was up next after Deadly Lo-fi and a band called Fairshake would be on after him. He sat silently, his nerves easily concealed. As the artists before him completed his set, Ian tried to swallow down any self-doubt. There was hardly any time for it when he has reintroduced again.

"Good evening everyone." His voice didn't quiver and the lights were so blinding he, thankfully, couldn't see the crowd staring at him. "This is my first time tonight and I apologize for any mistakes." His voice was warm in nature but had a cool undertone, a try oxymoron.

The song swelled in the speakers on either side of him and he felt the words flow from his mouth easily like it was simply muscle memory. His voice lifted an octave as he sang, his hands brushing his hair out of his eyes as he moved to the song subtly. The bass made his chest thump loudly against his sternum and the song itself sent a warm feeling through his limbs and into his limbs like a breath of fresh summer air. As his voice lowered again during his final rap part he felt a sense of euphoria. Well, maybe it wasn't euphoria as he sang. It was something more like a feeling of acceptance as if just coming out of dissociation.

This was how it was, how it was meant to be, and that was enough for him. So, as the song came to a close and the hand holding his mic fell to his side he didn't look the least bit upset. He looked relieved.

"Another one." A voice in the audience made him lift a hand to block the lights as he looked for the person speaking.

"Excuse me?" He tried to inquire as politely as possible.

"Do another one." The voice was assertive and almost commanding him to do so.

Ian complied, his brows furrowing slightly as he excused himself from the stage to select a new track. Back under the lights, his skin felt hot but he didn't want to take off his coat because he knew once he walked out the door he would be cold in the frigid winter air and that wasn't something he wanted to get used to so soon. So as requested he sang the second song, his voice dripping with far different emotions than before. These were more raw, real, deep. They were almost so heavy and unbearable that Ian had to sit down as he sang. He nodded his head to the song softly, his fingers tapping against the edge of the stool as he did. He lifted his hand allowed it to pat against his chest with certain cue words.

Occasionally his head would dip away from the mic when he elected to skip saying a swear word. He didn't notice that his free hand had tightened into a fist against his chest, his sweatshirt bunching up in its grip. When the beat dropped his hand relaxed and he let in rest in his lap for a bit, only raising it to point into the crowd as if the person was there. He rose from his seat during the final building, crouching down before straightening back up and stalking back across the stage his hand drumming against his chest to the rhythm of the song. When the song ended he let both his hands drop to his sides as he caught his breath. He thanked the audience for being so good before putting the mic back on its stand and stepping off stage.

Ian retrieved his phone from the sound booth before wrapping his coat tighter around himself and heading back outside. When he felt a hand on his shoulder he didn't hesitate to use his to knock it off before turning around. The man behind him was wearing a thick beanie, a white button-up, a thick winter jacket, jeans, and a scarf was loosely draped around his neck. Behind him stood a modelesque woman. Her hair was a dark brown, possibly black, and pulled back into a messy ponytail though but it didn't stunt her style. Her white button-up was tucked into high-waisted jeans and paired with a large tan wool blazer. Cranberry lipstick was the only other splash of color as far as Ian could see because the woman was wearing sunglasses.

"We liked what you did in there." He said. The man only glanced away from Ian when the woman whispered something in his ear. "Here is our business card," Ian took it was his fingers and studied it as he spoke. "Give us a call if you're a serious artist looking for a gig."

As the two of them stalked away Ian let it all sink it. "Is this for real?" He called out.

The woman stopped in her tracks, turning back to him with a small smile, "Do your research and give us a call when you're ready."

They disappeared into the crowd rather quickly and as Ian made his way home it took only took him on Google search to realize the woman was Valo and the man was her bodyguard. Valo had been a Korean R&B artist turned producer. She owned the company Valo Entertainment and was known for scouting foreign artists. As the Korean man took a look at the card before shifting his gaze up to his ratty home he realized he would miss it a little bit if everything ended up working out. Hopefully, it would work out for the better.


	2. Notes

_ Characters: _

_All characters are my own and if you would like to see more of them please feel free to tell me in a comment._

1\. Ian Hong (@hellooooojun on Instagram)

2\. Valo (@artdr3am on Instagram)

_ Inspirations: _

This one-shot / short story was inspired by Fall Out Boy's "Champion" Remix featuring BTS's RM and "I Fall Apart" by Post Malone.

Other inspiration was drawn from my hometown Atlanta. Ponce City Market, Eats, and the Underground are all real places. The record store is based off a place in Cumming, Georgia. All the Marta stops are accurate to the stops you would use for each location.

_ Further Notes: _

This short story / one-shot was written because I was in an iffy mood today. Writing is the best way I can think of to help understand, accept, and get past certain feelings or emotions. It has helped me a lot over the years, even if some of my older stuff was  _really_ cringy. I also wanted to try inserting photos into my notes page to help visualize characters. While I won't be doing this for my first one-shot (Save Me, because I had no clear visualization of the characters.) I will be adjusting Hate as long as I can hunt down the person I referenced for Bitna. It took me an hour and a half to track down the person in the picture I used for Valo.

I always try my hardest to make sure I give credit to the proper person.

 

 

In the end, thank you so much for reading. You can support me by leaving kudos and checking out my other works on my page! You can find me on twitter @qloss_ily where I post kpop related content and have a running threadfic I work on from time to time! 

**Author's Note:**

> All of my works can be found on Wattpad.  
> For more of me, you can check out my Tumblr @amaijunai or my Instagram @boykillerextraordinaire.


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